A Quiet Christmas - Stydia -
by PersephoneLassus
Summary: Lydia and Stiles are spending Christmas without the rest of the pack for the first time since they got together - but are Beacon Hill's most explosive couple capable of a quiet Christmas? (The fluffiest Stydia fluff in all the land)


Hi everyone! My first fanfic in absolutely years. I hope you enjoy this light-hearted Stydia Christmas fluff, designed to get you through the agonising pain that S6 is causing us all.- Persephone

Stiles really exemplified the phrase "like a kid on Christmas morning"; that is to say that it was Christmas morning, it was too early, and Stiles was wide awake with far too much energy.

"Lydia! Lydia," he was saying as he tried to nudge her awake with a hand on her shoulder. "Lydia, wake up. It's Christmas!"

The tiny girl made a small sound of acknowledgement, not opening her eyes. Stiles rested his chin on his knees, waiting to see if she would get up. He loved watching her sleep; not in any strange, inappropriate way, rather he enjoyed how peaceful she looked. That knot of tension she carried in her brow was smoothed away and replaced by a calm, neutral expression. Lydia had perhaps been through the most of any of them and he was thankful that she always fell into a heavy slumber and hadn't seemed to have any nightmares since they began sharing a bed. Lydia needed a rest. He was almost reluctant to wake her up.

Not reluctant enough, however, to not make the most of every available hour of Christmas. Stiles deliberated for a couple more seconds and then reached out to nudge her once more.

 _Now_ there was a frown on her face.

"Stiles," she groaned, clutching at the pillow. She seemed so determined to remain fast asleep that she had squeezed her eyes shut, deep creases forming in between her eyebrows.

"Lydia…" he intoned, using one hand to grab the side of her waist which had been exposed in her sleep as her silk camisole rode up. She flinched away. He knew she was sensitive there and was using it against her.

" _Stiles_ ," she repeated, this time a warning.

He decided to change tact and climbed on top of her, enveloping her into a huge bear hug from behind and burying his face into the side of her neck. She made a long, drawn out noise of protest but remained still. Stiles breathed in the strawberry-scent of her hair and planted a kiss. He was actually quite comfortable like this, he decided. He adjusted his position ever so slightly and then settled down. Something about holding Lydia always made him relaxed and even a little bit sleepy.

"Lydia," he said, waiting to reply until she sighed in response. "I love you."

Without notice Lydia rolled over, flipping him onto his back and then quickly straddling him. Stiles blinked up at the ceiling, suddenly disoriented. She leaned down to kiss him softly, murmuring "I love you too. Even if you woke me up," and snuggling back up to him, cheek on his chest. It was a bit firmer than a pillow, but warmer too. She smiled to herself, totally happy in that moment.

"Lydia?"

"Mm?"

"Merry Christmas," he whispered. She chuckled in response, nestling down into him. He gazed at her, curled up on top of him. Sometimes he couldn't believe she was really there. He curled his arms around her.

"Lydia?"

"Stiles, I swear to god I will –"

Her threats were cut short as he suddenly sprang up from the bed, her position with her legs wrapped round his waist proving particularly useful for him to easily carry her. She gave a little shriek as he hauled her up with him and began to stride into the living room.

"You will..?"

"You're lucky you're so cute," Lydia mumbled into his neck. "Stiles?"

He laughed, wondering if she was imitating him on purpose. "Yes, Lydia."

"Two things. One: Merry Christmas. Two: it's fucking freezing, how dare you take me away from my nice warm bedroom."

Stiles continued laughing as he dumped her unceremoniously on the leather couch, chuckling even harder at her exclamations as she felt the cold on her skin. He pulled the thick wool blanket that they kept on the back of the couch down to cover her as she shivered and she clutched it up to her neck. Even concealed under the heavy blanket, Stiles thought she looked just as appealing as she had with the skimpy coco silk camisole and shorts set she had slept in uncovered.

"Presents now?" he asked her.

"What time is it?"

"Err… half six," he replied, looking down at his watch.

"Oh, silly me, I didn't realise the Nogitsune was back!"

"You're lucky I'm in such a good mood," Stiles replied, deciding to let her remark go. He went to sit down under the tree and sort the presents.

They'd been a little excessive that year, he realised. Usually the pack all met up and spent Christmas together in the lake house, but this winter everyone had split off. Scott, his girlfriend and Melissa had gone to visit Isaac and Chris in Alaska where they had been hunting _Barbegazi_ – small dwarves with razor sharp teeth who preyed on lost hikers. Liam, Hayden, Mason and Corey had been invited to spend a week with Brett, and since he was a part of Satomi's pack Scott pressed them to accept the offer in the interest of diplomacy.

As they were staying at home, Lydia had taken to putting the carefully wrapped presents under the tree and as their number had begun to build Stiles had panicked and bought a few too many. Of course, Lydia had then added to the pile and they soon ended up with around 12 presents each.

He picked up the present on top of the pile, clearly meant for Lydia as he recognised his own messy wrapping, and shuffled over to her on his knees to give it to her.

Lydia looked guilty, clearly rethinking her comment earlier. She had never held what happened with the Nogitsune against him, and Stiles had learnt to accept that it wasn't his fault, but Allison's death was something that Stiles carried with him every day. It was heartless for her to bring it up to make a snide remark. She reached out and caught his hand, clasping it between both of her own and clutching it to her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said, watching his face carefully so she could see if he was alright. "I'm sorry, that was a shit thing to say."

He gave her an easy smile, too cheerful to dwell on the negativity. "It's fine, Lyds. I'm okay."

Lydia reached up to pull him down for a kiss. Together for three years now, kissing Stiles was no longer fire and butterflies – it was more like coming home after a long journey. With that firm pressure came comfort, relief and the feeling of absolute safety. When they broke apart she held him there for just a few moments, gazing into his honey whisky eyes.

"What did I do to deserve you?" she murmured, marvelling at the way Stiles always saw the best in her, had infinite patience for her insecurity and fear and any mistake she could ever make.

"I must think those words a thousand times a day," Stiles chuckled. "Sorry for waking you up. I'm just really excited to give you your presents."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Hand it over."


End file.
